


a taste

by novocaine_sea



Category: Twisted-Wonderland (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Riding, based off that one halloween card ahahah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:14:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27014866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novocaine_sea/pseuds/novocaine_sea
Summary: “My neck isn’t a cafeteria,” Leona had yawned, ducking out of Vil’s grip. He had heard enough, and though it was tempting, he wouldn’t let those teeth anywhere near his neck. “Are you sure you’d even be able to handle me?”Vil had stared at him for a long moment. It had been so quiet you could hear a pin drop, but the only sound was rushing water and the whimpers of a scared freshman. And then Vil had started to laugh, the noise like nails on a chalkboard, “I think the real question, Leona, is would you be able to handleme?”
Relationships: Leona Kingscholar/Vil Schoenheit
Comments: 10
Kudos: 113





	a taste

**Author's Note:**

> i'm in hell, a very beautiful LeoVil themed hell and it's all Vil's Halloween SSR card's fault. So this was born. I hope it's good, this is my firs twst fic so i hope characterization is okay??

Leona isn’t sure how things started, but he’s decided it’s a non-issue.

There’s a tongue in his mouth and sharp canines, sharper than his, poking his lip every time their tongues sweep together. He’s no stranger to this, lips on lips, bodies pressed together in a moonlit room, clothes becoming crumpled and useless. Most people would think he’s too lazy for this sort of thing, but when he’s got girls throwing themselves at him at home and a carnal need, well, even a lazy cat like him can indulge every now and then.

But who he’s with is new, and a shock. Hence why he doesn’t know really how things started.

He remembers being in the greenhouse, napping amongst the flowers as he usually does. He’d skipped his last few classes to take a nap and ended up sleeping through dinner, the grumbling of his stomach waking him from his peaceful slumber. He’d gotten up, stretched, yawned, and gone to walk out when he heard a strange noise, and a grating voice to follow.

_ Vil _ ? The Pomefiore dorm leader never frequented the greenhouse. Leona should have turned and kept walking. He hated sticking his nose into other people’s business; he didn’t care enough in the first place to be a busybody. But he went towards the voice and-

He found Vil hunched over one of the Heartslabyul first years, blood dripping from lips often painted violet, the kid’s neck a bloody mess. Leona recoils as the smell hits him, and when Vil’s head whips around sharply, the lavender of his irises the same color as the blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. 

“Ah,” Vil had rolled his shoulders and leveled his gaze on Leona, “I see I’ve been caught.” He spoke as if talking about the weather and even now, as Leona lays with Vil on top of him, drawing in his scent, he can still feel the chill going down his spine at how empty he’d sounded too.

Vil had wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and if Leona hadn’t been so stunned by what he’d walked in on, he would’ve been shocked to see Vil do something so improper, in Pomefiore’s standards that is. 

“Caught?” Leona had questioned. It seemed like a curse, walking in on Vil. He slides a hand down his back, over the silk of his jacket, and considers it a blessing.

There was movement, and then suddenly Vil had been in front of him, breathing his air, and Leona bared his teeth in a show of dominance. Gloved fingers had touched his neck, pressing into his pulse, feeling the rush of blood beating underneath the flesh. Leona had tensed when he saw the flash of sharp canines. He wasn’t one to get easily scared, and he would never be afraid of Vil Schoenheit, but it was possible that he could have had his throat ripped out. Anybody would be a little tense with that. 

“You caught me in the middle of a meal,” Vil had explained, leaning in close to whisper in his ear. It was hot, his breath against the shell of his earlobe, palm pressing to his Adam’s Apple. Leona could barely breathe; it was almost like suffocating. “But you can make it up to me.”

Leona had cocked an eyebrow, nostrils flaring. Why would he do anything ever for the embodiment of Evil in front of him? “What’s in it for me?”

“Hm...” Long fingers had dragged down his neck, along his collar, down his chest where his uniform was unbuttoned. Leona can still feel it now, though they’re in a similar position; Vil’s hand is on his throat, feeling the beat of life beneath his fingers, making sure his prey is still alive before he devours it. 

“Let me have a taste of you...” Vil had purred, lips twitching up into a smirk, “...and you can have a taste of me.”

Leona had been stunned to silence once more. But Vil had kept talking, long having forgotten about the poor Heartslabyul first year lying helplessly behind him. Leona hadn’t paid him any mind either, focused completely on the creature before him.

“I suppose it’s not very beautiful, is it? Begging like this. It’s so beneath me,” Vil had flicked his wrist passively as he spoke. “But you’re royalty, and I’ve never had a taste of that before. Somebody like me should be dining somewhere exquisite.”

“My neck isn’t a cafeteria,” Leona had yawned, ducking out of Vil’s grip. He had heard enough, and though it was tempting, he wouldn’t let those teeth anywhere near his neck. “Are you sure you’d even be able to handle me?”

Vil had stared at him for a long moment. It had been so quiet you could hear a pin drop, but the only sound was rushing water and the whimpers of a scared freshman. And then Vil had started to laugh, the noise like nails on a chalkboard, “I think the real question, Leona, is would you be able to handle  _ me _ ?”

It was a challenge. Leona had never backed down from one of those.

So here they are, in Leona’s bed, past curfew, the moon shining through the open balcony doors, wind rustling the curtains. Vil’s legs frame his hips, grinding them together, licking into his mouth with such gusto that Leona can barely keep up. He’s not used to such a fast pace, always wanting to take his time, mostly because he doesn’t want to exert more energy than he needs to, even when it comes to sex. Leona can taste the blood in Vil’s mouth, leftover from his  _ meal _ , as he’d called it. It should’ve been gross, but Leona is no stranger to the metallic taste in his mouth.

“I know you didn’t just come here to makeout,” Leona mumbles against his lips and Vil pulls back, hair in his eyes and sticking to the corners of his mouth. Leona liked to see him a little roughed up, having carded his fingers roughly through his hair to move him this way and that.

“You’re right.” Vil sits up straighter, right on Leona’s bulge, and undoes the chain of the cape, tossing it to the side. His outfit is grandiose and Leona takes his time taking in its intricacies, wondering why he’d dressed up so lavishly in the first place. But Leona isn’t going to voice that out loud, the answer probably much too troublesome. Vil plucks the black gloves from his fingers one by one, letting them join the pile. “You’re not going to help?”

“Nah,” Leona tucks his hands behind his head and yawns, “Get on with it already.”

Vil narrows his eyes and rocks down once, hard, enough for Leona to choke. Vil is clearly satisfied, if the smirk on his face is any indication, and stands up off the bed. He feels for the zipper on his obnoxiously high heels, dragging it down painfully slow. Leona can’t keep his eyes off of him as he undresses; each designer article that comes off reveals more deliciously pale skin that he wants to mark up.

But that isn’t part of the deal. Leona gets to fuck him, and Vil is the one that gets a taste of him. Vil must know, however, that he’s dancing with a beast, and Leona can only subdue his primal urges for so long.

Leona makes a gesture with his hands for Vil to hurry it up while he’s unbuttoning his ridiculous indigo jacket. Vil lifts one perfectly plucked eyebrow, “Don’t you know how lucky you are? Not many people get to see this.”

“Oh? I thought you spread your legs for anybody. Certainly seemed that way before.” Leona smirks as Vil bristles and the clothes come off a lot faster. Leona’s surprised he throws them so haphazardly on the floor, taking everything off except light purple briefs. 

“And what about you, Kingscholar?”

“What about me?”

“You’re just going to let me be bare while you’re all clothed? Hardly seems fair.” Yet his uniform is being unbuttoned still until his whole chest is on display, Vil eyeing it hungrily. Pale fingers come into contact with his tan skin and it’s electrifying. They walk their way down to the waist of his trousers and start to undo them, dragging them down and off. 

“You’re doing all the work anyway,” Leona has to bite down on his lip as a hand wraps around his bulge through his boxers. He meets eyes blown black once more and Vil situates himself between his legs on his knees, lowering himself until he’s eye level with his erection. He pulls it through the slit of his boxers and this time Vil is speechless. “You sure you can handle me,  _ Schoenheit _ .” The last name rolls off his tongue in a purr and determination gleams in Vil’s eyes as thin lips part to suction over the head. Vil tongues at his slit briefly before his tongue is on the move, over the head, down the shaft, even to his balls. Leona brings a hand to his head and winds fingers through soft, golden locks, twisting roughly to get him to move on.

Vil pulls off to glare at him, but the next thing he knows he’s being engulfed almost to the hilt, Vil’s tongue and lips everywhere. Leona grunts at the fast pace Vil sets, long fingers wrapped around what doesn’t fit in his mouth, stroking upwards to meet the hot, panting mouth that his cock disappears into. Leona bites down hard on his lip, begging himself not to be too fazed, but it’s  _ hard _ when Vil looks like  _ that _ . 

“Shit,” Leona curses under his breath when Vil pulls off to catch his breath, teasing him with his tongue again, focusing on the head. He trails kisses down the shaft, wet ones that make a noise when he pulls away. “You’re nasty,” Leona undoes the braids in Vil’s hair, letting strands fall into his face, feeling them brush against his thigh. 

“You don’t seem to mind,” Vil quips and goes down on him again, removing his hand to take him further. He gags and pulls up, pumping him with his hand. 

Leona forces him back down. “You can take it,” he says, pushing past swollen lips and dragging the underside of his cock against his tongue as he heads for his throat, feeling Vil twitch and clench around him. He holds for a second and then pulls off, letting Vil breathe ragged breaths. “See?”

“You’re a brute,” Vil sputters, holding the back of his hand to his lips as spit dribbles from the corners. Vil had said something before about not being beautiful, his true form, but  _ this _ ? Leona thinks this is the most beautiful he’s ever been. Nearly naked, pale skin shimmering with sweat, mouth wet and eager for him, hair astray. He looks nothing like the done-up, princely dorm leader he often portrays.

Leona wants to wreck him, wants to unravel every inch of him, a sight for only him to see. 

He growls, tugging Vil up his body. He’s still going to let Vil do most of the work, wants to see him bouncing up and down on his cock like he was born for it. With how he’d sucked him off, Leona is eager to see what he looks like on top of him. “You don’t seem to be complaining.”

Vil huffs and after pausing for a moment he takes off his briefs, revealing his own erection. He peels Leona’s down all the way as well, Leona only in his uniform shirt, but Vil would rather him keep it on. 

“Do you have lube? I assume I have to do everything myself with you.” Vil reaches over him, not even bothering for a response, just rummaging through his things like he owns the place. He finds the lube and condoms without much searching and drops the foil onto the bed. 

“My fingers are bigger than yours,” Leona states, because it’s the truth. “You sure you want them?”

“It’s not like your dick is small,” Vil motions to the heavy shaft laying on Leona’s stomach, slick with his spit. 

Leona takes the lube from Vil’s hands and slathers some onto his fingers, reaching around him to press at his hole. His other hand grips one cheek and spreads him, Vil letting out a startled yelp at being treated so roughly. It only serves to make the big cat smirk and he puts some pressure on him with one finger before it slowly starts to sink inside. A whimper escapes from kiss-swollen lips and Leona can’t keep his eyes off of Vil’s face as he tips his head back. 

“Feels good, hm?” Leona growls, finger moving in and out, dragging it out for him. He wants Vil to feel all of him, and he’s going to get his time’s worth if there’s going to be a pair of canines in his neck. He can see them flash as Vil’s lips part, glinting in the dim light of the room. They’re intimidating, a feeling that Leona doesn’t handle well. His finger presses deeper and Vil keens, fists curling on Leona’s stomach where they’re perched. His thighs close around his hips. “Open up baby, my cock is a lot bigger than this.”

The angle is awkward, Leona not a fan of the reach-around, especially when he can’t watch his finger sinking into him. But watching Vil’s face is enough to keep him hard, so he keeps going, finger squelching from the lube each time he thrusts in. A second finger is added soon enough and Vil pants, open-mouthed, tongue lolling to wet his lips. Leona is sure he’s used to being in control, and though he’s on top, this is his lion’s den; what Leona does or says goes, no matter what their agreement is.

He changes the way of his fingers ever so slightly, and curls them when he finds his prize, judging by the way Vil jerks above him. He taps against it, Vil panting openly now, drawing out a moan when Leona’s fingers spread him apart. 

“Vil Schoenheit falls apart for the beastly king of Savanaclaw...” Leona taunts as his other hand takes hold of his erection, pumping in time with his fingers, “What would your beloved dorm think if they saw you like this?”

“Shut up!” Vil shivers and clamps his hand over Leona’s mouth, but it falls away to the side to grip the bed sheets beside his head, “You cocky shit. Fuck me already, enough of this.”

“I guess it’s true what you said,” Leona pulls his fingers out and wipes them on the sheet below them.

“What?”

“You’re not above begging.”

Vil huffs and Leona can practically see the steam release from his nose, but he just plucks the condom off the bed with perfectly manicured fingers, ripping the foil and rolling it onto Leona’s cock. The lube comes next, and he strokes him painfully slow, Leona’s jaw pulled taut. Seeing the prim and proper Vil all worked up had gotten Leona feeling much of the same, but he didn’t want to show it.

Without any further prompting, Vil lifts himself higher on his knees and rubs Leona’s cock against his entrance before slowly sinking down. Vil has to lift himself a few times, unable to get over the thickest part. 

“No blood if you can’t-'' Leona starts to threaten, but it dies on his tongue when he’s fully inside of him, their hips flush together, Vil’s head hangs in front of him, chin to his chest. His chest heaves with heavy breathing, already sweating though they’ve barely started moving.

“You... were saying?” Vil lifts his head and his eyes are completely black from lust. 

Leona brings a hand to Vil’s waist, the other tucked behind his head again, “Get to work.”

Vil rolls his eyes, mumbling something along the lines of “Insufferable...” but he plants his hands firmly on Leona’s strong stomach, using it as leverage to lift himself up, only to slam himself back down. Their moans mingle together at that first thrust, and they tumble down the hill of pleasure together. Vil calls him a brute, a beast, a savage, but Vil is  _ ruthless.  _ He’s truly made for this moment, bouncing on Leona’s cock like it’s a ride. He must be more desperate than Leona had originally thought. 

Leona sits up, leaning back on one hand, the other fisting in Vil’s hair and smashing their lips together. “That’s it baby, fuck yourself on my cock,” he growls the words against Vil lips before taking a bite, tugging his lip back before diving in for more. He meets his tongue first and then his lips, Vil gripping onto his shoulders like a lifeline as he lifts himself up and down on his cock. 

“I hate you,” Vil spits out as he gasps for air, rocking in his lap. He’s trying to find that sweet spot, Leona knows it. He lays back and grips his hips with both hands, starting to thrust up to meet his hips. It’s the only way he’ll provide assistance.

“Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that, Vil.”

He pounds up into him and Vil almost screams. “There, hm?” The words rumble from Leona’s chest and he targets the bundle of nerves inside of him. Vil whines and whimpers like a bitch in heat around him now, hole clenching and tightening each time Leona hits his prostate. It’s amazing and hot and not just because of Savanclaw’s heat that never dies even at night.

“Fuck, fuck,” Vil splutters and Leona grips his hips tighter. If the school saw what he was seeing... no. Leona doesn’t want anybody else seeing this. This Vil is just for him.

He growls and Vil gasps as it becomes all the more intense, Leona thrusting with a purpose, Vil unable to even thrust his hips.

“Come for me. Now,” Leona pumps him in his hand and Vil’s eyes roll back slightly as he spills over Leona’s fist. He tightens almost painfully around Leona’s cock, but it’s good, it’s  _ great _ , and it’s just what he needs to come himself. He buries himself in Vil’s ass and releases into the condom with a roar that would awaken the whole dorm. That’s fine. Nobody would dare bust into Leona Kingscholar’s room, not even Ruggie, with that noise.

Vil collapses to his chest and Leona slips out of him, blindly peeling the soiled condom off his cock and tossing it towards the waste bin. Vil’s breath is hot on his neck and Leona tilts his head to the side, exposing more of him to him.

“You can do it. This is what you want, right?” Leona’s voice is rough and he can’t see Vil’s face but feels plush lips against his skin, mapping his territory. Leona tries not to tense but when he feels the first drag of sharp canines, but he can’t help it when they sink into him. It’s only for a moment though, before the initial pain subsides. It wasn’t anything more than a needle prick, but the light feeling that follows is new. His eyelids flutter shut and sleepiness overtakes him, but he’s still aware of Vil on top of him.

Eventually, Vil pulls away and Leona peels his eyes open to gaze up at him, sitting on his waist much like he was before. He’s wiping the blood from his mouth,  _ Leona’s  _ blood, the scent hitting his nose and making it scrunch. Vil looks content, satisfied, licking his lips as if he’s going to dive in for more. Leona is tingling all over, body feeling heavy, but arousal kicking in again.

“You don’t taste as savagely as I expected, Kingscholar,” Vil hums and rocks against his growing erection, “You want to go again?” Vil leans down to lick at the bite he left, deft fingers reaching for a fresh condom. Leona doesn’t have a choice, but he isn’t going to say no, not when Vil is looking as delicious as he’d apparently tasted.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/novocaine_sea) crying about LeoVil!


End file.
